


Kiss Your Neck

by Ash2411



Series: Yet [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, Bellarke, F/M, Fluff, Sexy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 11:48:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7800694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ash2411/pseuds/Ash2411
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy and Clarke go to a concert with friends. They're always on the precipice of something more, but this tonight, things are different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss Your Neck

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This is really smutty for me, tbh. I'm sure it's tame compared to some seriously smutty stuff out there, but this is my first go around! lol I hope you all enjoy it. I'm currently blushing. And I'm totally going to hell for this shit.
> 
> Also: the title is from a 1975 song called "Falling for You." If any of you would be interested in knowing what songs I listened to while writing this! :)

Clarke’s dancing, her body swaying with the music, her head falling back, her hair falling over her shoulder. She looks up and Bellamy is staring at her with his lips parted. He swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing, his eyes dark. God, she’s glad she didn’t wear a bra.

 

Bellamy’s wearing tight black pants that hug his ass and Clarke’s so fucking tired of pretending that there isn’t any sexual tension between them. Yeah, he’s older. Yeah, he’s fucked multiple girls and she’d only fucked Finn and Lexa. But damn does she want to know what he feels like- top to bottom, inside and out. Bellamy’s flannel shirt hangs around his muscular frame, unbuttoned and the gray shirt underneath has settled at the top of his pants, his belt hugging his hips. The sleeves on his shirt are rolled up to his elbows and the sight of the muscle and veins running down his forearms nearly sends Clarke over the edge. She’d tell herself it’s just the alcohol, but she knows it’s a lie. Bellamy pushes off from the bar where he was leaning on the wooden counter and drifts Clarke’s way. It’s a relatively fast song and body’s are thrashing and moving all around and against them.

 

“Having fun, Princess?” Bellamy says, leaning down. His lips are so close to her ear she can feel them moving as he speaks.

 

Clarke raises an eyebrow. “Yeah! Aren’t you?”

 

“Yeah!” Bellamy yells back. Everyone is dancing with each other. Raven’s with Roan, Octavia’s with Lincoln and Luna, Murphy and Emori are swaying together. The band plays a slow song and things calm down a little. Clarke’s chest swells as she breathes heavily from dancing. She looks up at Bellamy and he’s so close and she’s so fucking into him. Freckles dot his nose and cheeks and she wonders where else he has them. His hair is dark and tangled and his eyes look like black holes. Clarke wants to disappear in them.

 

Unthinkingly, she reaches out and grabs his hand tugging him towards her. Things have gotten so complicated. They’d almost kissed at a Christmas party at their friend's house. She left with Lexa, he dated Gina. They kept ending up at the same place though, always, at each other’s side. They’d been friends since Clarke was in high school and she’d met Octavia’s hot older brother that went to university. The guy that everyone wanted, but not many were able to get.

 

She begins to dance close to him, her skin brushing his, her body swaying in mesmerizing curves. Her loose, sleeveless tee moves with her body and Bellamy catches glimpses of her bare skin beneath. Clarke’s eyes are closed, but she’s still holding onto him and she begins to slide one of his hands down her body. He grips her hip tightly and she leans back into him, the sweat on her back rubbing against the sweat of his chest, shirt clinging to him uncomfortably. The ache in Bellamy’s gut is almost painful. Clarke can feel his heart beating in time with hers and she can feel hot tears of frustration in her eyes. She wants this so badly, but she can’t have it .The closer Bellamy and Clarke grow the more she feels like running away. No one can hurt you if you’re alone.

 

Suddenly Clarke pulls away and begins to push her way through the crowd, desperate to get some air. Bellamy’s arms fall to his side, losing their grip on her as she disappears into the crowd. Clarke reaches the narrow hallway where the bathrooms and supply closet are, panting and aching. She leans her forehead against the cold concrete wall and breathes deeply.

 

“What the fuck is going on, Clarke?”

 

She turns to find Bellamy standing at the end of the hall. His cheeks are flushed and his messy curls have somehow become messier. Clarke wants to run her hands through those curls. The thought makes her simultaneously excited and nervous. She tries unsuccessfully to push the thought of it to the back of her mind. He leans against the wall across from her, meeting her gaze as she too leans back.

 

“I don’t know, Bell.”

 

“What is this?” Bellamy asks, gesturing between the two of them. “What’re we doing?”

 

“We’re friends.” She says, knowing the answer is weak. “You’re my friend.”  

 

“Clarke, I don't  want to be your friend.” Bellamy says, chest heaving. Clarke's eyes search his, hurt, wary. She knows what it means. They're on the precipice, so close to jumping. She is so tired of hovering and waiting.

 

“Then what _do_ you want?” Clarke demands. Her bare skin glistens with sweat and her waves are untamable. The question is deliberate and daring.

 

He licks his lips and stares her down. Then he walks slowly towards her until they're a hair's breadth apart. He gives her time to deny it, to pretend this is nothing and walk away. But she stands her ground, keeping his gaze. Their breaths mingle in the hot, narrow hallway.

 

The first kiss is hard and hungry. Bellamy’s tongue slides in between Clarke’s parted lips and she responds with bruising force, shoving him backward until they’re leaning against the opposite wall and she’s tugging at his belt. Before she can get it undone he turns until her back is now pressed against the wall and leaves a trail of kisses down her neck and chest. His hands wander until they’re against her hips again and his thumbs rub circles into the skin there until she begins to squirm, her skin raw from his hot touch. Clarke nips his lip with her teeth and he growls into her mouth.

 

“Don’t fuck around with me, Clarke.” Bellamy says roughly, his forehead against hers, their sweat mixing.

 

Clarke answers by grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the small bathroom down the hall. It’s vacant, _thank god_. The music pounds through the walls, the sink vibrating as Clarke sits on the counter. Bellamy moves to stand between her knees and she kisses him gently, pushing his hair out of his eyes, her hand trailing down his face and resting on his chest. “I think I love you, Bell.”

 

Bellamy nods and closes his eyes briefly, the hint of a smile on his lips.Then his hands are at her hips again, pulling her shirt up and over her head. He barely has time to take in her bare chest before she pulls him towards her lips again, so instead he feels her, desperate to get to know her body. Bellamy’s fingers trail gently down Clarke’s sides, her stomach, her breasts. Her hands snake their way beneath his shirt, hungrily touching his body. Muscle and tendons stretch beneath her fingers, flexing as he moves his hands down to her legs, rubbing her thighs. Clarke can’t stand the barriers between them anymore. Bellamy pulls his shirt off and tosses it next to Clarke’s before he unbuttons her pants and uses one arm to lift her off the counter so she can shimmy out of her pants with his help. Clarke unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his pants. She slides her fingers into the top of his boxers, feeling the muscles in his stomach flex automatically. Her fingers brush the trail of hair that disappears beneath the waistband...

 

“Are you sure?” Clarke breathes into Bellamy’s ear.

 

Bellamy pulls back slightly to touch foreheads with her. “I love you.”

 

Then he kneels in front of her and dips his head between her thighs, his breath hot as he kisses the sensitive skin there. Clarke’s shaking slightly as he removes her underwear and pulls her towards the edge of the counter, resting her legs on top of his shoulders. His arms wrap their way beneath her thighs, so he can grip her hips and ass before licking the wet heat from between her legs. She gasps and and winds her fingers into his hair, her other arm steadying her on the counter. Clarke cries out as Bellamy’s hand joins his tongue, creating the perfect amount of friction. She lifts her hips slightly and closes her eyes enjoying the sensation.

 

“Bell, how did-fuck-how did you get so good at...this?” Clarke asks between gasps. Bellamy licks her slowly before stopping to look up at her.. “Nevermind I don't need to know. Continue.” Bellamy laughs and his breath tickles Clarke’s skin. “What?”

 

“You.” Bellamy says with a grin, leaning his head over on her leg. Then he stands up and kisses her breasts, her neck, her shoulders...Clarke groans in frustration, pulling him closer, her hands fumbling with his belt loops until she can push his jeans down further. There's a sudden change in Bellamy’s breathing that makes Clarke grin. She slowly slips her fingers into the top of his boxers again, sliding them along his taught muscles teasingly.

 

It's Bellamy’s turn to tremble, his arms resting on either side of Clarke. She looks into his eyes as she tugs down his boxers and his erection springs free. She wraps her hand around him and Bellamy makes a gravelly noise deep in his throat. He closes his eyes, oblivious to everything save the pounding music and Clarke’s hands against his body. Clarke slowly strokes him until his breathing starts to become erratic and quick.

 

“Clarke…” Bellamy starts. He can't finish what he wants to say because _damn_ she’s so beautiful and his brain is stuttering as she quickens her pace.

 

Then she stops. “Condom.”

 

“Wha-Where?” Bellamy asks. Clarke points to her pants.

 

“Front pocket-other one!”

 

When he’s back between her legs he kisses her deeply. They stay that way for a few moments, catching their breath between kisses. Then Clarke takes the condom from his fingers and rips the package open with her teeth. Bellamy stands as still as he can manage while she rolls it onto him. Then Clarke scoots forward again, the counter at just the right height.

 

The anticipation of this moment has both of them panting and quivering. Bellamy thinks his heart might beat out of his chest. He lines himself up with Clarke, slowly sinking into her.

 

“Oh god…” Clarke moans. Bellamy stops, allowing her to adjust. “Bell…”

 

Bellamy slowly moves again until he's buried inside her. It takes Clarke’s breath away and she wants to bottle this feeling. Nothing has ever felt like this before. Because it’s not just her body this time. It’s everything; her mind and heart and soul are a part of what’s happening. This is something entirely new. Bellamy pulls out and thrusts into her harder this time until her nails are digging into his back, then he starts up a rhythm that Clarke quickly settles into, lifting her hips slightly to push back. Clarke looks down and almost loses it at the sight of Bellamy inside her. She can feel him pulsing and her muscles tense around him. He buries his face in her neck, kissing her there, while she tangles her fingers in his messy hair. Clarke is the sun and Bellamy is shattered stars constantly spinning around her. The only time he’s ever felt whole is _now._

 

Bellamy lifts Clarke off of the counter and the shift in position makes her cry out. “Fuck!” Clarke isn't sure how long she'll last and as soon as the thought hits her she feels a surge of endorphines and her head falls back in ecstasy as Bellamy clings to her, kissing her above her breasts, nipping  the tender skin there. Clarke’s breathing heavily, her body weak with the force of her orgasm.

 

“You okay?” Bellamy pants, sweat trickling down his neck and chest. She licks it off of his skin and feels a deep vibration in his chest. Clarke nods, leaning her head on his shoulder, happier than she's been in a long time. But she isn't done yet.

 

Bellamy eases her to her feet and she can feel his length against her stomach, but he doesn't say a word. He tenderly pushes her hair away from her face and kisses her forehead. Clarke looks up at him, her eyes dark. She takes his hands and wraps his arms around her stomach, guiding one to grab her breast and the other down to feel the lingering heat between her legs. Clarke can see him close his eyes and kiss her shoulder in the mirror in front of them.

 

She leans forward, her hands splayed on the counter and Bellamy gently eases himself into her again. His muscular arms stretch out beside her, reaching until their fingers are intertwined. He rocks his hips into hers, gaining speed until Clarke’s toes curl. He lets go of one of her hands in order to steady them, then he slides it lower until Clarke is gasping again. Clarke looks into the mirror and feels herself caving in because _fuck_ she loves Bellamy. She loves the way he feels, the way he sounds, the way he's looking at her in the reflection of the mirror. She loves the way he loves her and how deeply she can feel it.

 

Just as the feeling between her thighs becomes almost unbearable, Clarke feels him release inside her and it sends her spiraling over the edge with him, tears streaming from her eyes. Bellamy leans his head on her shoulder, something like a growl rumbling from deep inside him. His teeth graze Clarke’s shoulder and his hand squeezes hers tightly.

 

They're both exhausted. Clarke turns around and buries her head in his chest, the scent of his sweat and musk filling her up. Bellamy kisses away her tears.

 

“I've always loved you, you know.” Bellamy says.

 

“Yeah?” She asks with a grin.

 

“I'm always going to.” He responds.

 

Clarke stands on tiptoe to kiss him. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me..”

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He says turning around and cleaning himself up. The. He pulls on his boxers and kisses her again for good measure. They get dressed and Clarke takes his hand in hers again. When they open the door there's a line of people outside with less than pleased expressions. Except for Raven, who's standing in the middle. She just smirks.

 

Bellamy laughs, his face lighting up and Clarke flips Raven off with a wink.

 

“Come on, Clarke. I'll take you home.” Bell says. They're both smiling and it’s contagious..

 

Clarke jumps on Bellamy’s back and kisses his cheek. “Alright. Let’s go home, loser.” Clarke nuzzles into his shoulder. Bellamy is worth it all, she decides. 


End file.
